


Nothing Fails

by xanzpet (gleefulmusings)



Series: Verses [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Romance, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 00:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/xanzpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jack reflects on how Ianto saved him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Fails

_I'm in love with you, you silly thing. Anyone can see.  
What is it with you, you silly thing? Just take it from me.  
It was not a chance meeting, feel my heart beating.  
You're the one._

_You could take all this, take it away,_   
_and I'd still have it all._   
_'Cause I've climbed the tree of life and that is why,_   
_I'm no longer scared if I fall._   
_When I get lost in space I can return to this place,_   
_'cause you're the one._

_Nothing fails._   
_No more fears._   
_Nothing fails._   
_You washed away my tears._

_I'm not religious, but I feel so moved,_   
_makes me want to pray._   
_Pray you'll always be here._

_Nothing fails._

~ Madonna, _Nothing Fails_

 

_  
_

* * *

 

 

Expectations were a currency afforded to the ridiculously gullible or the perversely optimistic, which was why he had learned to keep his low, if he could be bothered to have them. It was easier not to, really; surprises were unwelcome, save for instances of mortal terror or threatened global domination. Those got his blood racing, his heart pumping, reminding him that he was not as hollow as his insistences to the contrary.

He had spent his life, all of them, running from everything and anyone which might possibly make him feel something other than alone, too afraid to face the disappointment which inevitably arose from situations of his own engineering.

Even the greatest loves of his life, smaller in number than most would believe, he forced himself to view with a curious guarded detachment.

John was a flame which had burned more brightly than he had anticipated, and he had been unprepared. The passion had been so overwhelming, so liberating, that he had been more himself than ever before, and he knew John would suffer for it were it to continue. He had exposed too much, been too open, too honest, and had left both of them vulnerable. He had loved him inasmuch as he was able to love anyone, perhaps even more, were he honest, but their flame had consumed as much as it had illuminated, and he knew it had to be extinguished before both of them were destroyed.

Once it was over, the memories inundated him, as did John's accusations. Yes, he was a coward, but not for the reasons for which he had been condemned. He had left to save John, but for that to have happened, the break had to be clean, so he had left the Time Agency and everything else, and he had learned.

But then he met Rose, and all of that work, all of that pain, all of those lessons, evaporated in her wake. He had been so beguiled by her innocence, her beauty; a purity so blinding he had lost sight temporarily of the darkness. He had seen so much of himself in her, of whom he might have been had he allowed himself. Of whom Grey might have become had he been given the chance. He had held Rose in his arms that first night and something healed within him, something so small and innocuous, he hadn't truly noticed until it ripped open again when he read her name on the manifest of the dead at Canary Wharf.

And the Doctor. But he couldn't – he wouldn't – allow himself to remember.

He had lost so many and had saved even more. But Ianto had saved him.

Thank God.


End file.
